Monday, July 30, 2007

I've heard from a few friends that they've tried stalking me to see if I was still pg. Yup. 38 and a half weeks today. I have a prenatal massage appointment tomorrow again, yay! Then Thursday is my midwife appointment. At last week's appt. I had an u/s to check on my fluid levels, and everything was thankfully normal. (Daniel ended up being induced due to dangerously low levels.) Other than that, not much going on. I will do a post here when the baby comes, so my stalkers will know!

Wednesday, July 18, 2007

My dad, stepmom and two nephews (step) went on a tour across the US a few weeks ago. Patrick, one of my nephews, is an amazing photographer. Here is his travel blog about the trip, with some stunning photos accompanying it. It's a work in progress, so is not quite finished yet.

Friday, July 13, 2007

One more entry from the previous website, only because it illustrates me and Doug perfectly. I had to put it here to show him later, as I'm sure he'll be glad to know he's not the only cashless man out there!

The other money-related argument is about cash. That's cash, specifically. Despite the fact that Margret's earning power is comfortably twice mine, she never has any cash. If you can conveniently pay by cheque or credit card, that's fine, but otherwise it's, 'Miiiiiiiil - have you got any cash? Only, I haven't and I need to go to the hairdresser's/pay a builder/have The Mob carry out a hit for me.' Every time - Every. Time. - I go to the cashpoint she'll appear within minutes with her nose wrinkled up pleading, 'Got any cash?' I'm just a courier; cash is only ever in my wallet for the walk back home from the bank - I think that the second I key my PIN number into the ATM machine it texts her phone. The result of this is that now I never have any cash, because Margret has it. Except, she doesn't. Margret is chronically cashless to the size of two people.

Thursday, July 12, 2007

Nothing keeps a relationship on its toes so much as lively debate. Fortunate, then, that my girlfriend and I agree on absolutely nothing. At all.

Combine utter, polar disagreement on everything, ever, with the fact that I am a text-book Only Child, and she is a violent psychopath, and we're warming up. Then factor in my being English while she is German, which not only makes each one of us personally and absolutely responsible for the history, and the social and cultural mores of our respective countries, but also opens up a whole field of sub-arguments grounded in grammatical and semantic disputes and, well, just try saying anything and walking away.

Examples? Okey-dokey. We have argued about:

-I eat two-fingered Kit-Kats like I'd eat any other chocolate bars of that size, i.e., without feeling the need to snap them into two individual fingers first. Margret accused me of doing this, 'deliberately to annoy her'.

- She wants to paint the living room yellow. I have not the words.

- Shortly after every single time Margret touches my computer, for any reason whatsoever, I have to spend twenty minutes trying to fix crashes, locked systems, data loses, jammed drives, bizarre re-configurations and things stuck in the keyboard. There then follows a free and frank exchange of views with, in my corner, 'It's your fault,' and, in hers, 'It's a curious statistical anomaly.'

-See if you can spot the difference between these two statements:(a) "Those trousers make your backside look fat."(b) "You're a repellently obese old hag upon whom I am compelled to heap insults and derision - depressingly far removed from the, 'stupid, squeaky, pocket-sized English women,' who make up my vast catalogue of former lovers and to whom I might as well return right now as I hate everything about you."Maybe the acoustics were really bad in the dining room, or something.

-She keeps making me carry tampons around - 'Here, have these, just in case.''Oooooooh, why can't you carry them?''I've got no pockets.'Then, of course, I forget about them. And the next time I'm meeting The Duchess of Kent or someone I pull a handkerchief out of my pocket and shower feminine hygiene products everywhere.

The blog entry appears to be ongoing, which means it's actually incredibly long. However, it's also incredibly funny! So I've bookmarked it for myself, and will be going back to it on those nights I wake up at 3am with nothing better to do than pee and then stare at the backs of my eyelids for what feels like an eternity. At least this will keep me giggling while I'm trying to convince myself it's time to go back to sleep!

About Me

While there is perhaps a province in which the photograph can tell us nothing more than what we see with our own eyes, there is another in which it proves to us how little our eyes permit us to see. ~Dorothea Lange